Embracing darkness
by Dark Fairy of the Wood
Summary: All D/H stories are based on Draco seeing the error of his ways and Harry welcoming him back into the fold...What would happen if it was the other way round? Hints of G/V! Warning: slash, rating may change later! *COMPLETE (I think)*
1. Chapter 1: The beginning of the end

A/N: Thought I would do a different D/H story, although I don't doubt it has been done before. Review, please, even if it is just to criticise me. The HP universe and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I don't know whom else, I'm just borrowing them to play, I'll put them away when I'm done.  
  
This is slash, male/male relationships, if you don't like this sort of things click the "Back" button and take your narrow mind somewhere else.  
  
Embracing darkness, by Dark Fairy  
  
Chapter I  
  
When you feel all alone, and the world has turned its back on you Give me a moment, please, to tame your wild, wild heart. (Savage Garden, Crush and Burn)  
  
Harry sat on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds of Hogwarts, peaceful under a blanket of snow. It was the only peaceful thing Harry had seen since the end of his fifth year, more that a year before, but he knew that even the white ground held traps and curses to prevent Death Eaters from attacking the school.  
  
Voldemort's power had increased more quickly than anyone could have expected and, at the beginning of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the school was one of the last places that held their own against the Dark tide. But not even Hogwarts was the same: many of the students had left, either to join the Dark side (and that included several Ravenclaws and a few Gryffindors) or to abandon the magical world completely. Hermione herself had left Hogwarts and transferred to a Muggle school in Manchester, from where she would be following a Dentistry career. Ron was still in Hogwarts but Percy's death, Ginny's betrayal and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley's dangerous situation had transformed him into a silent, gloomy young man, only smiling when he received the monthly owl from his parents.  
  
And Harry himself had changed notoriously. He had had training in Advanced DADA in the summer between his fourth and fifth year, but Dumbledore had decided that it was unfair to make him battle alongside with the Order of the Phoenix and the remaining loyal wizards and witches, and so The Boy Who Lived had resigned himself to reside at Hogwarts all year round, feeling like an useless package. He was now seventeen, not too tall for his age, with a slim body hardened by indoor sports, because it was to dangerous to go out into the Quidditch field, and the same green eyes, now devoid of glasses. But the main change was on the inside: all those nights of waiting until a teacher (sometimes McGonagall with tear streaked cheeks, or Snape, still bleeding from multiple injuries) came to tell him that that night's action had finished, or the times when he saw Dumbledore, looking older than ever without the twinkling of his eyes, or the common occurrence of having his scar hurting, night or day, all that had left deep imprints on Harry's soul.  
  
And all those thoughts surfaced now, while he watched the snowy ground on the first day of his seventh year at Hogwarts (weather disturbances had been usual since Voldemort had regained power). A whimper from Neville's bed brought him back to reality for a moment, only to let his mind wonder round the Gryffindor Tower. Harry, Ron, Neville and Parvati were the only Gryffindors left in seventh year and the rest of the years hadn't done better. The corridors looked deserted and the teachers gave their lessons to all four houses at once, to make less noticeable the absences. Absences. the most evident of them was the absence of hope; not even the brave Gryffindors hoped for a favourable outcome to the war.  
  
Why were they fighting, then? Harry had asked himself that same question since it was obvious the Dark side would win. Why did they have to sacrifice so many innocent lives, why did they have to prolong their suffering? It was much easier to give up, to kill themselves, to deprive Voldemort of the pleasure of playing with them. Harry had felt ashamed of those thoughts at the beginning; he had told himself that there was always hope, that his parents had died to save him, that he couldn't repay them with cowardice, but even the memory of his parents' death had begun to fade and dark thoughts began to take shape.  
  
A small light, maybe a lost fairy, shone briefly over the snow and brought a smile to Harry's lips. His life as well, amongst all the death and fear and doubts, had a small light, not of hope, but of happiness. A fairy of silvery blond hair, porcelain skin and stormy eyes, one of the two remaining Slytherin seventh years, a boy that held much darkness under his sweet appearance. Draco Malfoy's obvious sympathy with the Dark side hadn't stopped Harry's heart from missing a beat every time he saw him, and Harry accepted that with the same resignation that he accepted his impending defeat. When the Daily Prophet brought news of yet another attack, Harry would look over to the Slytherin table and peace would flood back into his heart; when Professor McGonagall wiped away a tear looking at the empty places, Harry would look at a certain (occupied) place and he would be contented; when Dumbledore stopped half-way through a sentence in his DADA lessons and sighed heavily, Harry would fill those silences with imagined whispers of "Harry, I love you" from a velvet voice and he would forget his surroundings.  
  
Love, even unrequited, has the effect of numbing a person's heart to other people's sorrows, and Ron had learnt that the hard way, finding Harry in a world of his own when the red-head voiced his pain and despair; Ron had begun to keep to himself and Harry had never noticed he had driven his friend away until it was too late to bring him back. And so Harry sat on the windowsill of his dorm, wrapped in his cloak, knowing that not even Hedwig would listen to him.  
  
At the same time, in the Slytherin boys' dorm, Draco Malfoy slept with a slight smile etched on his face. He wasn't dreaming, but he didn't have to dream to be happy. His was the Royal family of the Dark side and Voldemort, knowing he wouldn't reach immortality, had appointed Lucius Malfoy as his successor, while young Draco had been allowed to continue his studies at Hogwarts before starting his training as a commander of Death Eaters. The world was at the blonde's feet and he would enjoy stepping on it.  
  
The following morning timetables were handed out to the breakfasting students. No groans or outraged protests were heard around the table (house tables had been replaced by one long one, due to the small amount of pupils left) and everyone carried on eating in silence, except from Draco and Blaise Zabini, who shared a joke in whispers. The blond boy laughed and Harry was amazed at the elegance of his gestures and at the vitality of the laugh, an exercise the Gryffindor hadn't practiced in months. Beauty and evil seemed to go hand in hand, pondered Harry as he made his lonely way to the Charms classroom. Draco and the rest of his family were handsome beyond measure and Voldemort himself had been a man of striking presence before several curses and immortality spells had damaged his body; Snape, another prominent Death Eater, was very attractive, even with his greasy hair, and Ginny had grown into a gorgeous girl before joining the Dark Lord, more out of love than out of ambition. Harry looked at his reflection on a suit of armour as he passed: he wasn't bad looking and with a bit of care he would look better than Snape, but.what was he thinking?! Harry shook his head in dismay, taking his usual place in the classroom. He had accepted thoughts of defeat, but treason was altogether different.  
  
He remembered the night when Professor McGonagall had announced in the Gryffindor common room that Ginny wouldn't be coming back. The revulsion seen in every face, mixed with pain in Ron's pale visage, the revulsion he himself had felt had been accompanied by a twinge of curiosity he had hid carefully. Why had Ginny left? Was her love for Voldemort so strong it could conquer the barriers of pride, of fear, of hate? Amor vincit omnia. The only thing she had left to Harry was a strip of parchment with those words written in a fancy script, and Harry still wondered why she had chosen him to receive her message. Now he thought he began to understand. And then he heard a crystalline voice behind him.  
  
'Trying to get points by arriving early, Potter?' Draco's voice had the effect of making his thoughts coalesce into a whirlwind of emotions; he tried to keep his voice steady as he answered without turning back.  
  
'Mind your own business, Malfoy' Still, Draco's attention felt like heaven, even if the Slytherin was only trying to annoy him. Harry wished he could have just turned round and kissed those perfect lips into silence, but he knew his limitations and, most importantly, he knew Draco would never love him back.  
  
From his seat, Draco looked thoughtfully at Harry, ignoring Professor Flitwick's instructions. Poor fool, thought the blond Slytherin, you should have shaken my hand on that train, so long ago. Things would have been different; for a start, Voldemort would have come back on their first year, with the help of the Philosopher's Stone, and he would be immortally ruling the world. That wasn't good for Lucius Malfoy's son, and a malicious smile appeared in his lips.  
  
'What is it?' asked Blaise, coming back with their marked essays.  
  
'I was just thinking about the consequences of our actions' mused Draco 'A simple act might change our whole lives' Saying this, his eyes encountered Harry's and the Slytherin gave him a wink that sent the Gryffindor's heart into a series of somersaults.  
  
Harry had often wondered what would have happened if he had taken Draco's hand on the Hogwarts Express, and the result had always been negative, Draco's possible friendship not making up for Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and a clean conscience. But lately, the equation didn't work out that easily, and, alarmingly enough, there were a couple of times when Harry thought that a few months of Draco paid for a lifetime of evil and misery. And yet, there was enough misery in his life now to rival with what he felt living with the Dursleys or what he would feel under Voldemort's reign, but he didn't have Draco.no, definitely, Harry's life wasn't worth the trouble.  
  
'Draco! Oh, Merlin's beard, wake up!' Blaise elbowed Draco and he snapped out of his reverie to find himself in the library, facing a pile of books he was supposed to be researching 'What's wrong with you, man?'  
  
'I've got a plan' answered the blond Slytherin, pushing his chair back.  
  
'Unless your plan involves McGonagall saying she doesn't need our essay, I suggest you sit down and start working' replied Blaise 'You can implement your plan after we've done our homework' Muttering mutinously under his breath, Draco complied and started writing on the properties of Animagus, while thinking of Harry's depressed air and the looks the Gryffindor stole to him, Draco Malfoy, when he thought no-one was looking. A satisfied smirk crept to his lips while he worked, and Blaise augured nothing good to whomever that smile was dedicated to.  
  
  
  
'So, remind me why we're doing this?' asked Blaise for the millionth time when they walked to the Great Hall to have dinner.  
  
'Ambition, power, money, influence, altruism. choose the one that suits you best' replied Draco straightening his robes and giving a feline look to Harry, who was sitting on his own at the far end of the table. To say that the Gryffindor was surprised when both Slytherins sat next to him would be a blatant understatement. 'So, what's for dinner, Potter?'  
  
'Roast pheasant' replied Harry after a moment's hesitation. Is this some plan to make fun of me afterwards? Is he really talking to me? Could I ask for more?  
  
'You're not very talkative, are you?' asked Draco with a smile, after five minutes of tense silence.  
  
'Why should I talk to you?' snapped Harry, regretting his words as soon as they left his mouth.  
  
'Well, we've come to have dinner with you and you haven't taken your eyes off your plate' Draco sounded genuinely offended.  
  
'You've come to have dinner with me?!' Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had he passed out or was he in an amazingly beautiful dream? 'Why would you do that?'  
  
'You underestimate yourself, Potter. Why wouldn't we want to dine with you?'  
  
'Apart from the fact that you hate me?' suggested Harry, albeit with fading conviction.  
  
'I've never hated you' replied Draco, staring into Harry's eyes with his own grey ones, full of sincere surprise 'We are in opposing sides, but that doesn't imply hate.' After a pause, the Slytherin added 'And, after all, it was you who refused my friendship in the first place'  
  
'I remember' said Harry, turning back to his food to hide the blush covering his face and neck.  
  
'It was foolish of you' continued Draco in a low tone 'Look where it brought you. Alone, friendless, endangered, afraid. It was a foolish thing to do'  
  
'Leave him' interrupted Blaise, following the script they had rehearsed before 'It was his decision, he had every right to turn your hand down. Let's forget that and have a proper dinner for once'  
  
And so they did. Harry didn't remember enjoying dinner so much since his fourth year, with the added bonus that it was Draco who punctuated each joke with a laugh and Blaise's sharp tongue who ridiculed each and everyone sitting around them. Once he was back in the Gryffindor common room, sitting in his armchair by the fire, Harry smiled to himself recalling some of the things said; the room was dark and the few people in it talked in whispers and kept grave faces, and Harry's smile was felt like an insult by all of them. Feeling keenly the contrast between the careless joy he had felt at dinner and the mourning atmosphere of his common room, the Boy Who Lived swung the portrait of The Fat Lady open and decided to roam around the castle. He didn't want to forget those too brief minutes of happiness, the sound of Draco's laughter or the feel of Draco's hand on his shoulder as he got up to leave. He was so immersed in his thought that he walked into someone.  
  
'Watch it!' exclaimed an angry voice from the boy on the ground 'Oh, Potter, it's you'  
  
'Sorry, Zabini' said Harry, helping Blaise up and secretly regretting it wasn't Draco 'I was distracted'  
  
'So I noticed' remarked the Slytherin dryly, brushing the dust from his robes 'Why aren't you in your common room, anyway? It's bloody freezing out here' Harry racked his brains for an explanation that didn't sound too foolish, but Blaise saved him the work 'Let me guess: they were being the self-righteous mourning jerks they usually are. Can't those people accept a smile?!' Zabini took Harry's silence as the acceptance it really was and put into practice the part of the plan he had been waiting for while pacing a corridor near to Gryffindor Tower for over an hour 'Do you want to come to our common room? It's nearly empty and you won't have to freeze to death out here.Unless you find it degrading to talk to us'  
  
'Not at all. Let's go' said Harry, maybe a little hastily. He followed Blaise to the dungeons, remembering with no small amount of nostalgia when he and Ron, with the help of the Polyjuice Potion, had made the same way following Draco. He was about to sigh when he found himself in the middle of the Slytherin common room and all his alarms set off at once. What the Hell am I doing here? It could be a trap, they could be trying to kill me or kidnap me! How did they talk me into this?  
  
'Look what I found' Blaise was saying to a figure curled on a sofa.  
  
'Potter!' said Draco, flashing him a smile that melted Harry's suspicions 'Welcome to the Slytherin side of town. You must be the first Gryffindor to do so, since.since the Founders' time, I suppose'  
  
'Thanks' muttered Harry, feeling everyone's eyes trained on him. He gratefully accepted the seat Draco was offering him, right in front of his sofa, and he looked curiously around him. The room hadn't changed much since his clandestine visit a few years back; it still had a low ceiling and green lamps and a massive stone fireplace, but there were much fewer students sitting on the carved chairs. 'It's a nice place you've got here' he said, and he meant it. Even though there were less than twenty students, laughter often rang here and there and games of chess and Exploding Snap were being played by the younger ones.  
  
'It is, isn't it?' confirmed Malfoy settling back into the sofa 'I think it's more welcoming than Ravenclaw's or Hufflepuff's. I don't know about Gryffindor.'  
  
'Here is better' assented Harry, trying to get used to the sound of laughter again 'I haven't heard laughter since.' he stopped, not finding an appropriate phrase  
  
'I know' interrupted Blaise, understandingly. 'It must be hard on you'  
  
And suddenly, Harry found himself spilling his secrets (most of them, anyway) to the couple of Slytherins, who did nothing to interrupt the torrent of words. It felt as if a dam had burst, and the Gryffindor could perceive the weight lifting from him as he voiced his feeling of loneliness, of abandonment, of hopelessness. He was aware he was talking to Slytherins, to supporters of Voldemort, to people who would sell his secrets even before he finished talking, but he couldn't seem to stop once the first words had been uttered. The feeling of relief as he communicated to human beings what he had only said to his pillow was enormous and it more than paid for the nagging feeling of danger. When he was done, a stunned silence settled amongst them.  
  
'Hey' said Draco quietly after a minute 'If I had known you felt like that, I would have talked to you much sooner' Blaise gave him an incredulous look, but Malfoy kept his eyes on Harry's flushed face. 'You're welcome to come here anytime, whether you want to talk or just sit here and hear actual people'  
  
'Thanks' muttered Harry, steeling himself for the sarcastic comment he was still expecting.  
  
'Would you like a cup of tea?' asked Blaise in an equally soft tone, but not before Malfoy kicked him under his robes. Harry assented and Blaise left the room, shooting a malicious glance to the two boys sitting by the fire.  
  
'Why are you doing this?' asked Harry timidly, while his emerald eyes demanded a sincere response. Draco looked slightly embarrassed and he dropped his voice until it was scarcely a murmur.  
  
'You've been looking really depressed and miserable, you know? As I told you, I've never hated you and it seemed to me like.' The Slytherin stopped and gave a quick glance to Harry, who was surprised to see the other boy look away with a faint blush. 'I thought maybe you wouldn't turn my hand down today'  
  
'But I can't..you know..' Harry stammered anxiously, torn between happiness and the knowledge that he would have to turn that offer down again.  
  
'I'm not asking you to change sides' lied Draco in his most convincing tone 'I'm just offering you my friendship. You've said it yourself, you're lonely, you have no-one to turn to..I just want you to know I'm here' With these words, Draco, who had been leaning forward, took hold of Harry's hand, seizing it between his own hands.  
  
Harry closed his eyes. The sensations surging through him were too much to resist, even a saint would yield to such a wondrous temptation, he thought, while green and silver fireworks exploded behind his closed eyelids. If Harry hadn't been so busy in his personal heaven, he might have seen Malfoy's peculiar smile, a mixture of satisfaction, malevolence and triumph. It was gone when Harry opened his eyes and was greeted by a pair of slate-grey eyes, which reflected nothing but concern and warmth.  
  
'Thank you' whispered Harry, ignoring his flaming visage. Draco gave a final squeeze at the Gryffindor's hand and watched him as he left the common room, not even acknowledging Blaise, who entered with a cup of tea.  
  
'So, did it work?' asked the dark haired Slytherin to Draco.  
  
'I daresay it did' replied Malfoy, and there was certain sadness in his voice. Blaise didn't grasp that, though, and he continued his questioning.  
  
'Do we go to your father now?'  
  
'Don't be stupid!' snapped Draco with much more alacrity than he would use normally. Registering his mistake, he rectified quickly 'We need much more before we bother my father with this' Blaise assented and left to finish his Potions homework, while Draco stayed in his place, staring at the now vacant armchair in front of him and wondering why he felt a void in his chest.  
  
------ A/N: So, tell me what you think! Would you prefer EvilHarry or ConfusedHarry? Do you like it? Shall I continue? Just hit the "Review" button. 


	2. Chapter 2: Is it true?

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, I'm in love with you all! Most of you voted for EvilHarry, so I'll do my best to please you. Cali, you asked for semi-good Draco, sorry but you'll have to go somewhere else (maybe to my other fic, "Dark Princess") to get that. Draco may fall in love, but he'll never be good!  
  
"Irresistible poison" is the name of the most wonderful D/H fic ever written, by rhysenn.  
  
Embracing darkness, by Dark Fairy  
  
Chapter II  
  
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you, It's hard to find relief, and people can be so cold. (Savage Garden, Crush and Burn)  
  
'I can't believe you of all people would do that!' Ron was screaming for the first time since Ginny had left, and all the boys in the Gryffindor dorm tried to leave as inconspicuously as possible, with the exception of Neville, who still didn't know what was happening.  
  
'What do you care, Ron?' asked Harry tiredly; he had been in the highest spirits at his return to Gryffindor Tower, but Ron's reception made him wish he had never left the dungeons.  
  
'We were friends once!' said the red-headed boy, and there was a terrible desolation behind his rage 'Besides, you can't wander amongst Slytherins like that, as if nothing had happened!'  
  
'Why not?! What if I want to forget for a moment all this? No wonder we're going to be defeated, all we can do is sit around and mope! I was happy for a moment with them!'  
  
'Do you think you have a right to be happy? After all that has happened, all the people that have died.?'  
  
'I've paid my tribute to death as well, Ron, you're not the only one who has suffered. But I don't want to do it anymore!' Harry had screamed the last sentence at the top of his lungs and it seemed to him that it summed up his feelings 'I'm sick and tired of the solemn faces, of the candles lit in front of pictures, of the whispers and the tears, of the dark clothes and the holier-than-thou attitude. We're all going to die in a few months at best, so why don't we live them?'  
  
A short cough was heard in the silence that followed Harry's rant and the colourful shape of the Hogwarts headmaster was seen standing in the doorway. Harry felt himself blushing under Dumbledore's gaze and Ron kicked a trunk in frustration.  
  
'I'm sorry to interrupt your discussion. I was told that Harry was missing, but I'm pleased to confirm that it was a false alarm' The blue eyes rested on Harry for a moment and he read sadness and disappointment in the teacher's look, but it only enraged him more. 'I would like to have a word with you, Harry, please'  
  
'I'd rather not' replied the boy, rising his chin in defiance. After all the wrong decisions Dumbledore had made during the war (including the decision of continuing it), Harry was not going to stand a lecture. The old man seemed to understand that because he just sighed deeply and left the room. Harry went to his bed and pulled the curtains shut, not wanting to continue the fight with his ex-best friend.  
  
The usually firm hands of the Gryffindor Seeker trembled like autumn leaves, like they hadn't trembled under Draco's touch, they trembled with rage. Dumbledore was disappointed with him? With the boy who had defeated Voldemort three times? With him, that had given all he had to stop the advance of the Dark Tide? His parents had been killed, his friends had been hurt, his life had been put at stake more times that he could count, he had offered to do it all over again and they were still dissatisfied? Hot tears spilled down Harry's flushed cheeks and he only had the mind to put a Silencing Spell before he broke down sobbing. What else did they want? He was only human, they couldn't expect him to face death and torture unmoved. He had only a few months of life and he would be damned if he wasn't going to enjoy them. His parents hadn't died to give him a miserable, wretched life.  
  
Draco was still sitting on his sofa when Blaise came to tell him it was way past bed-time.  
  
'I'm not tired, Zabini, you go on' The other boy, used to Draco's weird mood changes, assented and left. One he was sure he was alone, Draco Malfoy allowed himself a sign of weakness he rarely did, and hugged his knees, letting his fair hair screen his face. Harry Potter lusted after him, he had seen it with his own eyes, but still he didn't feel triumphant at all. Well, he did feel successful, but in an intimate, warm sort of way. The last warm feeling Draco Malfoy remembered having was towards his blanket when he was three years old, and he had no intention of repeating something like that. He was cold, calculating and ambitious and he enjoyed being so. There was no space for fuzzy feelings where a Malfoy was concerned, and Draco wasn't going to change that for the fleeting attraction he had felt towards Harry Potter.  
  
No, he mustn't admit that. Draco Malfoy was not or had ever been attracted to Harry Potter. It had been a joke of his hormone-driven, seventeen-year- old body and nothing more. It had been the normal reaction to having a good- looking boy with an emotional crisis in front of him. Maybe the Gryffindor did feel more than lust towards him, that was a possibility Draco had contemplated a few times, and it pleased him to no end. He imagined himself kneeling in front of Voldemort, saying that Harry Potter was ready to join them thanks to him, Draco Malfoy...The same malicious smile Blaise had seen in the library, the same smile Harry had missed, graced Draco's rosy lips and the boy drew out a copy of "Slytherin: A History" and started reading, feeling completely in control again.  
  
The following morning, Harry sat besides Draco, braving Gryffindor's boycott and defying the Headmaster. The Slytherin smiled warmly up to the black-haired boy and greeted him.  
  
'Good morning, Potter, how are you?'  
  
'I'm fine' answered Harry, loud enough for the Gryffindor's to hear; a few of them turned their heads in disgust.  
  
'Go on, Potter, whatever did you tell them last night?' asked Blaise with a spark of admiration in his eyes. 'They look absolutely crushed'  
  
'Oh, that' smiled Harry, secretly flattered 'I just told them that I was going to enjoy my last months whether they liked it or not'  
  
'Cool!' answered the dark-haired Slytherin, sitting in front of his breakfast. Draco frowned and Harry couldn't help noticing it.  
  
'What is it, Malfoy?'  
  
'Nothing...I was just thinking these don't have to be your last months, you know? If you wanted to.'  
  
'Stop it, Malfoy' interrupted Blaise, slamming down his mug of coffee 'If Potter wants to remain loyal to his cause there's nothing we can do, except give him our friendship when he needs it'  
  
'But if he wanted to...' interjected Draco, noticing the pretty blush on Harry's cheeks. Pretty?! What the Hell am I thinking?  
  
'You've said it: if *he* wants to. *His* decision. Stop it now, the old badger is looking at us' Blaise shook his head as he turned his attention to a toast.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes were trained on the trio, and there was a discordant note of worry in those blue depths, but the boys started talking loudly about Herbology and the Headmaster had to go back to his meal without anything to prove his suspicions. Farther along the table, the Head of Slytherin, the only one who would lose nothing whichever side the victory was weighed, regarded Harry with a hatred which was rapidly vanishing, specially after the all-too-apparent break up with the Gryffindors.  
  
Later, in the DADA lesson, Harry sat between Draco and Blaise and they had a grand time scribbling notes on Neville's stolen homework, although the Gryffindor promised himself to give it back, unspoiled, at the end of the lesson. He forgot to do so because he was busy pocketing a piece of parchment in which Draco had written his name. It was probably wrong, anyway, thought Harry when he saw Neville going towards Dumbledore's desk, almost in tears.  
  
'Potter, are you coming?' called Draco's crystalline voice. When Harry joined the Slytherins he remembered they had different lessons 'What have you got now?'  
  
'Divination' answered Harry, after consulting his timetable.  
  
'Divination: the art of nosing out the occult. Divination is of as many kinds as there are fruit-bearing varieties of the flowering dunce and the early fool' Blaise gave this definition with a straight face but Harry gave a great peal of laughter and pulled out a roll of parchment.  
  
'It's perfect for my homework' Harry said, scribbling it down 'Whose definition is it?'  
  
'The Devil's dictionary. It was written by a wizard, Ambrose Bierce but those foolish Muggles are still wondering how he disappeared when the truth is that he lives in Diagon Alley' The trio parted ways, the Slytherins walking towards Study of Ancient Runes and Harry climbing to the North Tower. He had feared the lesson, because all the other Gryffindors were there, but after Sybil read Harry's homework she had a migraine attack and dismissed them early. Harry consulted the Marauders' Map and saw both his new friends in their common room. He hesitated a bit, but seeing as he had two free lessons before dinner he made his way to the dungeons and reached the entrance to the Slytherin territory before he had time to wonder how he was going to get inside.  
  
'Irresistible poison' said an all-too-well-known sneer. Snape was standing behind him and at his words the door slid open 'I'm glad to notice that inter-house relationships are improving, Mr Potter' Harry gave a thoughtful look to the teacher and noticed that the fire of hate wasn't burning in those onyx eyes any longer.  
  
'So am I, Professor Snape. I'm also glad to notice that you salary as a double agent allows you to buy shampoo...soon you'll learn how to use it, no doubt' Harry walked into the green living room, leaving his astonished teacher behind, and directed his steps towards the corner in which Draco and Blaise sat. Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when they noticed Harry's presence and the Gryffindor felt very superfluous 'I'm sorry' he stammered 'I'll go...' Draco exchanged a look with Blaise and nodded.  
  
'Stay, Potter, there's no need for you to go' Harry was immensely relieved, but he put up a bit of a fight, more out of politeness than anything else.  
  
'But if you're talking about something I shouldn't know...'  
  
'You can keep a secret, can't you? After all, you're a Gryffindor' said Blaise, vacating his place next to Draco and sitting on an armchair.  
  
'Have a seat, Potter' Harry fell on the velvet cushions of the sofa and held back the contented sigh that was forming in his chest. 'We were talking about Pansy Parkinson. She's dead, killed by the Order while she was taking care of her little sister, who was also killed' There was a tinge of bitterness in Draco's voice, and Harry found himself asking what he didn't want to know.  
  
'Who was it?'  
  
'Sirius Black' replied Draco, without hesitation. It was the final blow to separate Potter from his loved ones; tell him that his godfather was a ruthless murderer and the Boy Who Lived would find himself without connections to anyone. 'In cold blood and without mercy'  
  
Harry closed his eyes in the vain hope that the Slytherins wouldn't notice his tears. He had suspected all along that Sirius was going down the same path that Barty Crouch Senior had taken in his day, but the confirmation was still painful. He was alone now, utterly alone; everybody had deserted him, and he had nothing to hold on to; he might as well jump out a window, no-one would care.  
  
'I'm sorry' whispered Draco very close to his ear; the Slytherin's warm breath tickled the skin of his neck and sent fire running through his veins 'But remember that I'm still here, as long as you want me to'  
  
Those were the exact words Harry had been needing to hear and Draco knew it perfectly, because he had been reading the Gryffindor's face like an open book and his instinct never failed him. Blaise had discreetly disappeared as soon as he had noticed the temperature raising and Draco took advantage of the intimacy to destabilise Harry even further. The blond boy slid even closer to his victim and draped an arm over his shoulders.  
  
'I know what you're going through, Harry, I know it better than you suspect. And I can help you, I can help you reach whatever dream you want to attain, whatever or whoever you want.'  
  
'Stop it!' gasped Harry, feeling his resolve dwindling. While his eyes had been closed he had seen Sirius silhouette fade away and Draco's touch had completely overwhelmed his soul. There was nothing he wouldn't do to have those lips pressed firmly against his, to hear that same whisper saying "I love you", to make Draco love him. 'Stop it' he repeated, more softly this time. Draco pulled away reluctantly and gave him a searching look; he had just opened his lips to ask Harry what was wrong when Snape's voice made itself heard from the doorway.  
  
'Mr Malfoy, your parents are waiting in my office. Would you be so kind...?'  
  
'I'm going' replied Draco, standing up and straightening his robes; before leaving he turned to Harry and whispered into his lips 'Remember what I said' And with that he was gone and Harry stayed in his seat, feeling rather like a tidal wave had passed over him. A tidal wave of desire and love, of shame and fear. After waiting until his heartbeat regained a normal rhythm, he made his way to the Owlery and put into practice an idea he had shunned before.  
  
Snape made no comment as he escorted his favourite student to his office and Draco was thankful because it gave him time to steady his hands and drive to his heart the blood that had rushed to his cheeks -and to other parts of his body- thanks to Harry. Infuriatingly handsome Harry Potter, he admitted now, before entering the Potions classroom.  
  
'Hello, dragon, how are you?' Lucius' voice wasn't warm but it gave Draco the reassuring feeling that everything in the world was as it ought to be.  
  
'Hello, father. Hello, mother, how are you?' Narcissa gave her son a pretty smile and kissed him, although being careful not to spoil her lipstick. The Malfoys visited their only son once a month, to keep up appearances and to gather the latest information. It didn't mean that there was no love between parents and child, but it wasn't a warm, fuzzy feeling; it was more like the encouraging sensation of belonging somewhere, of having someone to rely on. There, in the heart of his family, was where Draco felt best because he didn't have to pretend he was better or worse than he actually was. He was Draco Malfoy and all he did was well done. He smiled contentedly 'Father, mother, I have something to tell you. Lately I have been developing a plan...'  
  
Harry didn't go down for dinner. He stayed in his bed, watching the ceiling and feeling his heart torn in two. The first thing he had seen when he had returned from the Owlery was the pictures of his parents and Sirius Black, waving at him from their frame. Sirius, Snuffles, Padfoot, his godfather. He thought he could hear the screams of the two girls, Pansy trying to protect her sister, but his heart failed to be shocked. Death was something he was familiar with, since the Dursleys had been killed in the summer of his fourth year, while Harry used his Invisibility cloak to escape. No, it wasn't murder that shocked him. It was the hypocrisy of denying that long ago both sides had lost many of their main differences. Sirius was just the tip of an iceberg of Aurors who jinxed everything within sight, of common witches and wizards who received permission to apply the Unforgivables for a suspicion and of power-hungry people who were ready to betray their mother for a bit of authority.  
  
If someone chose to delve into the Dark Arts, if someone decided to use whatever means necessary to reach his goals, it was just as well they dropped their mask of goodness and admitted what they were looking for. Harry despised double standards, that was why Snape had been rebuked in his attempt to befriend him and that was Sirius Black had been kicked out of the place he had held in his heart. But Harry didn't feel empty: he had Draco, he had memories of a warm body pressed against him, of rosy lips whispering in his ears, of grey eyes he could drown in. Draco was all he had left, and he would do anything to keep him.  
  
Draco was the last to leave the table at dinnertime; he had been waiting for Harry until the house elves started cleaning the table and he had to leave with a painful feeling of disappointment; he wouldn't be seeing the messy black hair, long enough to hide the scar, he wouldn't be seeing those shiny green eyes, dark as he jungle at night, he wouldn't be hearing Harry's frank laugh and his garish, yet attractive, voice, he wouldn't be feeling that he was the most important person in someone's world. That was the real reason he enjoyed Potter's company, said Draco to himself, because it made him feel loved, respected and admired. That wasn't a fuzzy feeling, it was perfectly compatible with being a Malfoy and it somehow eased the desire of crash into Gryffindor Tower and drag Harry away with him.  
  
Not too far away from Hogwarts, in a darkened room, a young woman read a letter in bed. When she finished it, she turned to the sleeping form of her lover and wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek. She got up softly, careful to not awake her love, and sat to write an answer. When she opened the window to let the snowy-white owl out, the moon shone over her red hair.  
  
'Are you sure we should talk to him?' asked the uncertain voice of Blaise Zabini, muffled by the silence that hung from the shelves of the library. Harry drew his Invisibility Cloak closer and prepared himself to eavesdrop; he didn't know that the Slytherins were well aware of his presence.  
  
'Blaise, we could give him anything he wants' entreated the cold voice of Draco Malfoy 'Our Lord will give up his plans to kill him if Potter changes sides. Think of the effect that would have on the people. "The Boy Who Lived joins the Dark Lord", headline of The Daily Prophet, battalions of people follow his example, there'll be no more bloodbaths...'  
  
'And what would *he* win?'  
  
'Anything he wants. Money, power, knowledge, the feeling of belonging, a new group of friends...anything!' Draco's voice rose in volume as he enumerated.  
  
'We can't give him what he wants the most, Malfoy, we can't give him love' Blaise's unconvinced steps faded away into another corridor of shelves, but Draco stayed in his place and whispered, loud enough for Harry to hear.  
  
'I could'  
  
------------ A/N: Awww, isn't Draco sweet? (He isn't really) EvilHarry is just around the corner and Ginny will make a longer appearance in the next chapter. Now, REVIEW if you want me to continue. 


	3. Chapter 3: Going down

A/N: I'm in love with my reviewers! The only thing is that you all suggest different things, so I've concluded I'm going to go mad! Keep reviewing, though. Draco's middle name is taken from "The Lord of the Rings" and it means "Hope" in Elvish.  
  
Embracing darkness, by Dark Fairy  
  
Chapter III  
  
  
  
When darkness is upon your door  
  
And you feel that you can't take anymore...  
  
Let me be the one you call, if you jump I'll break your fall I you want to crush, then crush and burn, you're not alone. (Savage Garden, Crush and Burn)  
  
Harry sat in the darkened dorm, watching the snow fall softly on the already white grounds. Hedwig had brought him an answer from the letter he had wrote to Ginny, but he didn't dare read it. "I could" repeated a soft whisper in his head, over and over again. After the conversation he had "overheard" in the library, he was just one step away from getting rid of all his prejudices and throwing himself into Draco's arms. Although he was way past rational thought, Harry tried to weigh the consequences of his acts. "...there'll be no more bloodbaths" said Draco's voice inside him, at the same time that Dumbledore's heavy gaze showed a horizon without hope. "I can help you reach whatever dream you want to attain" said Draco's voice, his hot breath travelling down his neck, while Ron's angry shout said in the background "Do you think you have a right to be happy?". Harry broke the seal that closed the parchment and read.  
  
Dear Harry:  
  
I'm glad you remembered that you can count on me. You ask me the reasons why I left, but from your questions I can see that you already know them. I loved, Harry, and I had one chance to be happy. Why shouldn't have I taken it? There's no Good and there's no Evil; we don't live in a black and white world, and there are things more important than following what your parents believed to be true. Have you ever made a decision by yourself? When you asked the Hat to sort you into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, was it you or was it because everyone had told you to do so? Everyone has their part to play in the global masquerade. No one is who they really are, not all the time. They all play their part, then exit the stage. It takes the few special ones to break away from the theatrics, to declare that they want to improvise. Are you want of them? Is your love for Draco strong enough? Do you have something to tie you to the sinking ship of self- righteousness? Don't spoil your life, Harry, by sticking stubbornly to something that was thrust upon you before you even had a notion of life. Be yourself, let out that part of your soul you have always stifled for fear that people won't like you if they see your ambition, your fears, your darkest dreams...That is all the advice I can give you, I hope you use it wisely.  
  
Ginny Riddle (yeah, we've been married; save your congratulations for later)  
  
Harry read the letter three or four times before drawing out of his pockets two pieces of parchment. The first had a Latin phrase in fancy script: "Amor vincit omnia"; the other had a signature, made in dark green ink with a strong calligraphy: "Draco E. Malfoy". He kissed the latter and went to sleep, without nightmares for the first time in months.  
  
Draco had always slept soundly and he was rarely plagued by nightmares, but the dream he was having could easily be considered one. He was standing in the familiar circle of Death Eaters, but he felt threatened and uneasy; he focused on the figures of Voldemort, in the centre of the circle, and someone else, who was kneeling in front of the Dark Lord. That was the reason for his discomfort, the feeling that the kneeling figure was being taken away from him. It was Harry Potter, who was about to pledge allegiance to the Dark Side, and Draco could scarcely refrain himself from bursting inside the circle and dragging him away...Why? Wasn't it Draco's work? It was, but somewhere in the middle of the hunt, Draco had forgotten that the prize would be for his Lord and he had taken a fancy to it. He couldn't let Harry be taken away from him, that was clear. He felt himself advancing upon the two figures, raising his wand and shouting "Avada Kedavra!". The shock awoke Draco and he found himself laying in his bed, surrounded by the green hangings and illuminated by a dying fire. He rose his hands to his face and found it wet with tears.  
  
'Bloody Hell!' he whispered 'Must be the first time I cry since I was four years old! What on earth is wrong with me?!' He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of loss he had felt when DreamHarry was about to be marked 'I'm officially going mad. I find myself *missing* Harry Potter, feeling *protective* of him...even if it's only in my dreams I should be heading straight to St. Mungo's' While he searched Blaise's bedside table for a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion, Draco Malfoy tried, rather unsuccessfully, to forget that burning feeling he had felt towards the kneeling figure of his dream. 'Barking mad, that's what I am'  
  
Breakfast was a uncomfortable affair the following day. The tension hanging between Harry and Draco made the air thick enough to slice it with an overripe banana, and even the teachers noticed something. Luckily it was Saturday, which meant no lessons, and the three boys (because Blaise had taken to chaperoning) made their way to a terrace on the west wing of Hogwarts; it had a beautiful view of the frozen lake and the snow-covered grounds and Harry thought he couldn't wish for much more than being there, with Draco. Blaise seemed to finally understand that he wasn't welcome and he retired, alleging an excuse no-one heard, and silence descended upon the two boys left outside. Draco was the first to speak.  
  
'What is it, Potter?'  
  
'I think it's time we got to the first-name stage, don't you think? Besides, I seem to recall you've already called me Harry' The Gryffindor smiled at the memory.  
  
'Then, what is it, Harry?' The dark-haired boy shrugged the question off and turned his back to Draco, who smiled predatorily: Harry wanted to play coy, he would play along. The blond boy closed the distance between him and his victim and placed his head on the other boy's shoulder. He then gave a sigh and felt the shiver it produced. 'Why don't you want to tell me, Harry?' purred Draco, his lips brushing the Gryffindor's ear.  
  
'Tell you what?' he gasped, feeling rational thought slipping away.  
  
'Tell me what's going through your mind... I know something is troubling you, Harry, tell me what is it' Draco's hand was already toying with the light hairs in Harry's neck and the Gryffindor accepted that resistance was futile.  
  
'I don't want to be alone' blurted Harry, closing his eyes; the last vestiges of shame and prejudice melted under the scorching desire he felt 'I want...'  
  
'You want what? Or is it "who"?' Insistent and caressing, Draco's voice lulled Harry into a deceiving sense of security and his hot breath travelled down Harry's neck.  
  
'I want you, oh, goodness, I want you, Draco!' The Slytherin's ministrations had left Harry on the brink of hysterics. The blond boy smiled, deciding to make Harry suffer a bit, to make him pay for all the dreams he had inspired.  
  
'What would you give to have me, Harry? How much do you want me?' Harry whimpered in frustration and seriously considered going on his knees to get his message across, for talking seemed too difficult.  
  
'Draco!' he gasped reproachfully, when the Slytherin's lips met Harry's fevered skin and talking was even less of an option 'I'll give whatever you want, just...!'  
  
Draco had won the match and he deemed it useless to prolong the other boy's suffering; besides he didn't think he could tease Harry much longer without revealing his own, almost insufferable, desire. Instead, he spun Harry around and stared deeply into those green eyes, which were shining feverishly with desire and a much deeper feeling, that Draco didn't think he wanted to investigate at that particular moment. To avoid those shining jewels, Draco's lips enclosed Harry's, his tongue probed his mouth, twisting around his tongue, teasing his lips and eyelids fluttered closed. Time pooled into eternity.  
  
Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower well before lunch. As soon as he climbed through the portrait of The Fat Lady he felt everyone looking at him, examining his mussed hair, his red lips, the love bite on his neck, his creased robes... He faced those prying eyes proudly, feeling happy enough to be generous with those sad people who would never know the attractive of Draco's flushed cheeks and uneven breathing.  
  
'It was time you arrived' snapped Parvati's severe voice; she was wearing a disapproving frown and a mourning band on her robes 'There's something you need to know'  
  
'What is it?' asked Harry cheerfully, thinking that he didn't need to know anything that was outside Draco's sphere of influence.  
  
'Ron is dead' said a sobbing Neville from a corner 'He threw himself off the Astronomy Tower' It took a few minutes for Harry to actually register the words and their meaning; when he did, all he could feel was extemporaneous relief.  
  
'The first one of us who had foresight enough, and bravery enough' said Harry's voice, sounding strangely cold in the weepy atmosphere of his common room.  
  
'How can you!' shrieked Parvati from where she sat 'Your best friend kills himself while you're making up with...I don't care with whom, and all you can say is...'  
  
'It was a compliment, Parvati darling' said Harry, wondering why every time he entered his common room his mood was dampened. 'Besides, Ron himself said we weren't best friends anymore' He sat on an armchair and watched his housemates, all teary-eyed and sombre, and he felt miles away from them. Why cry for someone who would never see those tears? Ron was probably better off dead than he would ever be in Hogwarts, waiting for the arrival of the Dark Lord.  
  
Professor McGonagall stood up from where she had been sitting and blew her nose noisily.  
  
'I'll go to notify the family' she announced shakily 'Would someone like to come with me?' Harry ignored the pointed look the teacher was giving him and stared into the fire. Suddenly he realised Professor McGonagall was offering him an opportunity.  
  
'Will Ginny be there?' he asked to the retreating back of the teacher. A storm of outraged gasps and whispers followed his words and the teacher's head bowed heavily.  
  
'Miss Weasley has been notified. I have no doubt she will do her best to be here'  
  
'I'll go with you' stated Harry standing up. He didn't bother to cover the hickey on his neck, but he followed the crying teacher to her office.  
  
Mr and Mrs Weasley were already there and Harry confirmed that at the death of an offspring men cried and women felt too much pain to shed tears; he had seen it when Cedric had died, when Percy had died, when Cho had killed herself... He was to absorbed in his thoughts to notice the hostile look he was getting from the adults in the room.  
  
'Ron left a letter' said the Head of Gryffindor 'It says that he's sorry...' The door creaked open and a slim shadow went in and sat next to Harry. He first saw the long hands, of creamy white skin, scarlet nails and a ring in the fourth finger of the right hand, in the form of a silver snake biting its own tail; the eyes were emeralds, he detected when the hand moved and the gems shone to the candle light 'He affirms that he has nothing left to fight for and...that Harry's words showed him the way' Mrs Weasley gave a small chocked sob and the hands next to Harry clenched into fists. '"No one should be blamed for my death. It's my own decision. Good luck"' McGonagall folded the parchment into its original shape and placed her head on her hands.  
  
Harry didn't pay much attention to what was being said, but he remembered shaking hands and murmuring condolences. After a moment a hand grabbed his and hauled him to an empty classroom. His kidnapper was a young woman, tall and shapely, with red hair, brown eyes and mourning robes.  
  
'I see you've followed my counsel' remarked the girl ironically, indicating the mark on Harry's neck.  
  
'My condolences, Mrs Riddle' said Harry, stifling a proud grin.  
  
'Thank you, Mr Malfoy' replied Ginny with a laugh 'Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you!'  
  
'So am I, Ginny, so am I' said Harry fervently 'Are you OK?'  
  
'I loved Ron' answered Ginny simply 'but I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. He couldn't just sit there and wait until death reached him.'  
  
'Nor could you. Or me for that matter' The boy started pacing the room in a frenzy 'My options were simple: either I stuck to my family's tradition and got killed doing so, or I saved my life and won the love of my life. It was hard, though'  
  
'It must have been' replied Ginny, sitting on a desk 'It wasn't a picnic for me either, and my options weren't as clear as yours. But it doesn't matter anymore. What are you going to do?'  
  
'Draco asked me to keep it a secret for a while' Harry giggled when he remembered exactly *how* Draco had asked him. 'I think he wants to introduce me himself'  
  
Ginny smiled absently as Harry explained his feelings, hopes and dreams. She prayed silently for Draco to return, in some small way, his boyfriend's feelings and not to use him exclusively as a tool. Harry deserved someone who would love him back.  
  
'I have to go, Harry, they're waiting for me' she said finally, although the torrent of words he had let loose didn't show signs of abating. 'Write to me if you need anything'  
  
Draco went back to his common room well before lunch, although he made a prior stop at a toilet, to check for marks and to comb his hair. When he entered the sitting room no one was any wiser as to what he had been getting up to, not even Blaise, who on the other hand was far too busy with his Potions homework. Draco sat quietly on a shaded armchair and gave a free reign to his thoughts. The kissing session had been wonderful, far beyond his expectations, and he was well aware that it had more to do with the emotional background than with Harry's snogging abilities, although they were something to count on. Could it be true that he, Draco Estel Malfoy, felt more than a passing attraction towards a half-blood, Muggle- loving Gryffindor?  
  
And such a wonderful Gryffindor it was, recalled Draco with a contented sigh. Those green eyes, beautiful like a forest just washed by fresh rain, those kissable lips which could form a killing pout, those firm hands, the slim yet strong body guessed underneath the robes...No, those weren't the kind of thoughts that were going to help him now. He had to think of his mission, the one that would give him more power and recognition than any Death Eater had had before. If he had to play the comprehensive boyfriend to Harry Potter he would do it, but he would *not* enjoy it as he had done that morning. It was simply acting, said Draco to himself, nothing more, nothing that involved feelings other than occasional lust, nothing that had to do with irrational dreams, and nothing he could afford to get carried away with.  
  
Lunch was a gloomy meal because the news of the latest death had spread like wildfire; Draco and Harry sat together but they only looked like a couple of misbehaving students. After the meal they wandered to the library and sat on a deserted corridor, far way from prying eyes.  
  
'Harry, we've got to talk' started Draco seriously, stopping Harry's hands, which were doing a good job of sliding under his robes. The Gryffindor pouted, but stopped obediently 'What are we going to do?'  
  
'I don't know' confessed Harry, not really caring about the future as long as he could keep the boy in front of him 'Aren't you going to introduce me to the Death Eater circle?'  
  
'Is that what you want me to do?' asked the Slytherin, trying to look as seductive as humanly possible.  
  
'If it's what it takes to keep you, then the answer is yes' replied Harry without hesitation.  
  
'I'm afraid it is. But, are you aware of the kind of things they'll made you do? Once you start you can't back down' These words might have had more effect if Draco hadn't chosen that precise moment to trace Harry's jaw line with his tongue.  
  
'I'm in too deep already, Draco' replied the Gryffindor, trying his luck with a tempting pout; Draco melted into the feeling of fierce pity he had been so uncomfortable with in his dreams, and he couldn't resist kissing those innocent lips into silence.  
  
------------ A/N: I know, Harry isn't being very evil yet, but we're getting there, bear with me. Do you like the way it's going? Don't you? REVIEW anyway! 


	4. Chapter 4: Mistakes

Embracing darkness, by Dark Fairy  
  
Chapter IV  
  
  
  
Looking for some education, Made my way into the night All this bullshit conversation... Baby, can't you read the signs? (George Michael, Fastlove)  
  
Draco looked at the smoking ashes in the fireplace. It was four o'clock on the morning of a Monday, and he had finally told his father about him and Harry. He recalled Lucius' overpleased smile when he found out that his only son and The Boy Who Lived had been going out for two days. "Our Lord will hear about this immediately. It's a great day for our side, dragon". The blond boy shook his head and an amused smile appeared on his lips. Going out with Harry had proved more fun than he had expected; it included late night escapades to the Astronomy Tower, Gryffindor bashing (in which Harry was exceedingly good) and the most wonderful encounters in dark cupboards. He only wished all missions were like that one, instead of including death, torture and mayhem. Speaking of which...  
  
Something that Draco hadn't told his father, but that had been bothering him since Saturday, was Harry's ability to wreck chaos inside someone and then walk away as if nothing had happened. Egged on by Draco and Blaise, the Gryffindor had scared a Hufflepuff second-year out of her wits and then left her, a sobbing heap, and started talking Quidditch. Draco wondered if the love Harry felt for him (it had been a tough battle, but the Slytherin had finally come to terms with the fact the Harry loved him) made him insensitive, or if it was just a part of the Boy Who Lived that the world had never gotten the chance to see. Considering the Sorting Hat's judgement, Draco felt inclined to choose the second hypothesis, but Harry's weird infatuation with him had been indispensable to bring that darkness to the surface. Was it disappointment Draco was feeling? Did he prefer the innocence of Dumbledore's Golden Boy to the feral grace of his new boyfriend? Stupid, stupid, stupid... he had to remember that feelings were uncalled for.  
  
Harry. Harry James Malfoy. Harry giggled softly and put a pillow over his face to stifle the sound. Happiness filled him like a too-full balloon and there was no-one he could share it with in the grieving Gryffindor Tower. Ron was dead, recalled Harry, and he, his best friend for five years, felt nothing about it. It was rather shameful, and he had tried to look his worst at the funeral, but he was too much in love to be sad at the death of someone who thought he didn't deserve happiness. He might not deserve it, but to Hell, he had it. And the price? Harry didn't like to think about the price he would have to pay for Draco's love, but even when he tried to paint the scene with its darkest hues, Voldemort's wrath was nothing compared to the sated smile he had set on Draco's lips the night before. Love. Love in the mightiest, most dangerous and upsetting sense of the word, that was what Harry felt towards his fair-haired sylph.  
  
In his dark office, now devoid of silvery toys and phoenixes, Dumbledore sat in front of the fire, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His alarms had all gone off the day he had caught Harry's desperate rant, but the nagging sense on danger had been there before. The Order of the Phoenix and the adjoining group of loyal wizards and witches had the highest rate of suicides and desertions of any army in the history of magic and it was foolish to pretend that Harry, sheltered as he was, could avoid that pressure. Truth be said, the Hogwarts Headmaster had been waiting for Harry's fatal determination for a long while now, but he had never thought that it would take the shape of a friendship with the most detested Slytherins of the whole school. It had only been Dumbledore's renowned equanimity that had allowed Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and the rest of Slytherins to remain at Hogwarts while the war raged on outside, but he had never expected that his high-minded decision would bring such consequences.  
  
Could Harry really become all he had fought for six years? He had *chosen* Gryffindor back in his first year, he had showed his house loyalty in the Chamber of Secrets and he had done more for the downfall of Voldemort that any other living wizard, except maybe Dumbledore himself. And yet he seemed to have forgotten all that as he strolled in the company of young Malfoy, laughing heartily after his best friend's funeral. There was no Memory Charm, no Personality Potion, no dark curse so powerful that it could change someone's character like Harry's had changed. Dumbledore picked a lemon drop and sucked it thoughtfully. He shouldn't be so surprised, after all it had been himself who had said that pressure brought out the best and the worst of a person's soul; Harry had given his best for many years, it was time the worst came to light. And yet it was the most unfortunate moment Fate could have chosen for it. The morale of the loyal army was as low as it could be, and the news of Harry's betrayal or death would send the party into shambles. Just the thing Voldemort wanted; it seemed a bit *too* propitious...  
  
'Harry, I would like to talk to you' said Professor Dumbledore after his DADA lesson on Monday. The Gryffindor shot a quick glance to Draco, who was already leaving, and he mouthed the words "Wait for me" before turning to the Headmaster.  
  
'Yes, sir?'  
  
'Harry, sit down. Do you remember that conversation I, er, interrupted between you and the late Mr Weasley?' Harry didn't even blink, he just nodded mutely 'You said you didn't want to suffer anymore, that you wanted to enjoy the last months of your life... I'm aware this has been difficult for all of us, but you seem to have chosen a most ill-timed moment to defy Fate. It might seem to you that this conversation is out of place but..'  
  
'You have no right' interrupted Harry, flames flaring in his eyes 'You are partly responsible for this dead-end situation you're stuck in. It is stupid to carry on and it is too late to stop. The only exit is out of the window, as Ron demonstrated a few days ago and I'm not willing to take it.'  
  
'What are you going to do, then?' asked Dumbledore, dropping all pretence of fatherly concern. Harry shrugged as a response, and his gesture creased the high neck of his robes, exposing the love bite he sported since Saturday. The Headmaster's eyes clouded momentarily as he arranged the pieces of the puzzle: a lonely boy, a sudden offer of friendship, an attraction it was no use fighting, a crafty, heartless young man, an offer no-one could refuse. 'It's because of Draco Malfoy, isn't it?'  
  
'Draco has nothing to do with this,' lied Harry 'he came much after I had made my decision'  
  
'It was him;' insisted the teacher 'it was he who first approached you, he who showed you the murky path out of the labyrinth you found yourself trapped into, he who found the price that would buy Harry Potter for the Dark Lord' Dumbledore's eyes recovered some of their fire as he faced the facts.  
  
'He isn't buying me' replied Harry arrogantly.  
  
'Don't you think that it's a bit too much of a coincidence that Mr Malfoy discovers his feelings towards you at the same time that it's suitable for his master? Open your eyes, Harry, don't be stupid!' Harry stared in disbelief at Dumbledore. He wished he could have drawn his wand out and performed the Patronus Charm, because those words resembled too much his worst fear. 'Love is blind, they say, and you're showing how sadly truthful that can be'  
  
'Don't be ridiculous!' exclaimed Draco from the doorway 'Not everything that harms you comes that from the dark' Harry had never been so glad to see someone in his entire life; Draco's slightly flushed cheeks as he rebuked Dumbledore, filled him with trust again.  
  
'So, is it just a twist of fate that you pounced on Harry exactly *now*?'  
  
'Not exactly' replied Draco, calculating how much frankness he should imbue in his answer to make it believable and yet not truthful 'I knew that if I had talked to Harry before, he would have rejected me again. I chose the moment when he would give me a chance, that's all'  
  
'Very moving' sneered Dumbledore, resembling Snape in his worst days 'So, you've been waiting all this time for an opportunity to talk to Harry?'  
  
'That is none of your business' said Draco, while he willed his cheeks to blush a bit more. 'Let's go, Harry, this conversation is pointless'  
  
The boys made their way out of the classroom and into a sombre corridor; they had walked for a minute in silence before Harry voiced the only thought that filled his head.  
  
'Have you really been waiting all this time to talk to me?'  
  
'Look, Harry, if there's something you'll never find in me, besides a pair of bunny slippers, is a sentimental, soppy boyfriend. I'm not going to declare my undying love, or profess never-ending faithfulness, or confess nights spent dreaming of you' Draco's voice was a bit more cutting than usual, but Harry had enough with the blush he had seen in his cheeks after Dumbledore's question 'You didn't believe the old badger, did you?'  
  
'He made me doubt for a moment' admitted Harry 'but when you came in I realised how stupid it all was'  
  
'You must see he has a point' insisted the Slytherin 'It is a Hell-sent coincidence for them'  
  
'Too bad' shrugged Harry; a light of mischief appeared in his eyes and he asked 'Now, you might be very tough and all, but don't I even get a kiss?'  
  
'You'll get more than that' growled Draco as he opened the door to an empty classroom and pushed Harry inside.  
  
[The amount of empty classrooms that Hogwarts holds for us, poor fanfics writers, is wonderful, isn't it? There's always one handy...]  
  
Harry was dreaming of Draco, obviously, when a small scratching noise was heard in the sleeping dorm. The Boy Who Lived woke up suddenly and reached for his wand under the pillow. There was definitely someone in the room, and Harry wondered for a moment if it could be Draco, coming for a late night snack. "No, he would never do something so stupid," thought Harry, "knowing he could get cursed into oblivion if he was caught". The scratching noise was heard again, accompanied by a soft rustling of fabric and Harry opened his eyes and tried to peer through the bed-hangings, only to find that they had been drawn back. He clearly remembered shutting them when he went to bed, and the thought would have disquieted him to no-end if it weren't because the reason for it was crystal-clear.  
  
Five figures stood around Harry's bed, covered in red velvet cloaks, with golden embroidery that shone to the uncertain moonlight. They stood there, quite motionless, and Harry felt fear surging through him. "Calm down" said a voice inside his head "They could have killed you by now, and they haven't; maybe it's some kind of joke". Harry was fully awake by now, and he could make out the figure embroidered on the front of the cloaks: a bird, with eyes of ruby and wings of gold. The Order of the Phoenix was paying Harry Potter a visit.  
  
'What do you want?' asked the boy, sitting up and raising his wand.  
  
'Don't be foolish and put that wand down' replied one of the figures, with a rumbling voice that reminded Harry of his godfather.  
  
'Make me, Sirius' replied the boy defiantly, noticing with glee the discomfort of the cloaked company.  
  
'We all know who we are, the cloaks are completely unnecessary' said another voice, drawing back the fabric that covered his face. It was Dumbledore and following his example the other figures revealed their faces. Sirius Black was there, along with Bill Weasley (the only one of Molly and Arthur's sons who were still loyal to the cause: Fred and George had emigrated to America, escaping from a war they didn't understand, and Charlie had disappeared deep inside the Rumanian forest with a Veela), Minerva McGonagall and Amos Diggory. Harry was glad that Lupin had been killed by Muggles, who mistook him for a wolf, because at least he had been spared the shame of being there.  
  
'I can't believe this!' exclaimed Harry with a sense of malign joy. 'I'm so deeply honoured to receive this visit. Lemon drops, anyone?'  
  
'This is no laughing matter' growled Sirius 'We've heard you want to join the Dark Side, Harry'  
  
'Even if I hadn't wanted to do it before, this visit would have pushed me into Voldemort's arms, no doubt' answered Harry, only wishing Draco could have seen him.  
  
'You can't do that to yourself' said Professor McGonagall in a strangely croaking voice.  
  
'I can't do that to *you*, you mean. But you're mistaken, because I can' The Boy Who Lived was oddly calm, and he wondered why the panic had subsided.  
  
'I will not allow you to betray us!' howled Sirius, clutching his wand convulsively and stepping forward.  
  
'Kill me, then, like you killed the Parkinsons. You are already way past the stage of killing defenceless people and I'm not going to defend myself. If this is the only way you can devise for keeping me by your side, I'll have to wonder how I didn't leave you before'  
  
Sirius stepped forwards, trembling with rage, and he rose his wand before the others' impassive faces. "I'm going to die" said Harry "I'm going to die by the hands of my own godfather. How I wish I could say goodbye to Draco!"  
  
'Stupefy!' said a cold, crystalline voice and Black dropped to the floor, unconscious. The Order of the Phoenix drew out their wands to face the twenty-something Death Eaters that had filled the room while the argument raged on. 'You stand no chance, phoenixes" said the same voice, unmistakably that of Lucius Malfoy. 'Fly, if you can'  
  
'Grab your Portkeys, people!' shouted Dumbledore, casting a Impedimenta on the nearest Death Eaters 'Flee for your lives!'  
  
Under a rain of curses, four of the five members of the Order of the Phoenix disappeared in a shimmer. Sirius Black was still unconscious on the floor, and the Death Eaters surrounded him, all eyes focused on him. Harry looked on, wondering when his turn would come "They want to torture me before they kill me, I suppose".  
  
'Take Black with you, Avery' said Lucius 'Bulstrode, Nott, Fhreary, you change the wards around the castle, they mustn't return. Severus, take the rest and finish off the resistance here. I have a few things to clear out' The Death Eaters complied, and after a few minutes, Lucius and Harry stood face-to-mask in the silent Gryffindor dorm. "They must have cursed the other boys" wondered Harry idly, while waiting for the eldest Malfoy to speak. Instead, the older man took off his white mask and smiled mirthlessly.  
  
'Get dressed, Harry, and hurry up' The Gryffindor complied after a moment's hesitation; he stumbled a few times, but he managed to dress in record time. When he was ready, Lucius threw him a black cloak 'Put this on and follow me'  
  
The time it took them to reach the dungeons seemed to Harry twice as long as it usually was, but they had to walk slowly to avoid stray curses and allow Lucius to check on Snape's work of cleaning out the castle of loyal witches and wizards. Finally they got to the bare wall that gave entrance to the Slytherin common room and Lucius muttered the password. The wall slid open and Harry stumbled in, in as much of a daze as he had been since watching his godfather fall. The room was empty, except for a shadow near to the fire, who rose as soon as they entered.  
  
'Thank Merlin you're alright!' exclaimed Draco, opening his arms to gather Harry's trembling form, now that the Gryffindor finally seemed to realise what had happened.  
  
'I'll come for you in an hour, dragon' said Lucius' somehow amused voice, while the wall slid closed again, and Draco covered in kisses his boyfriend's tear-filled eyes.  
  
----------------------- A/N: Awwwwwww, they must look *so* cute like that! Anyway, the next chapter will be the last one, and I need help for the Voldemort-vs.-Harry scene. Suggestions are welcome, so REVIEW! 


	5. Chapter 5: The Meeting

A/N: This is it, folks! Lyrics by Melanie C., from her songs "Closer" and "Feel the sun". Thank to all my reviewers and please review once more to tell me what you think of the "finished product". Love you all!  
  
Embracing darkness, by Dark Fairy  
  
Chapter V  
  
  
  
"Loving you madly, we'll be forever/  
  
I see the ocean in your eyes when we're together./ There are no boundaries, there are no limits/ My heart has been embraced now that you're in it..."  
  
'What is it, love?' Ginny stood on the doorway, looking at the cloaked figure who was staring out of the window, its long, thin hand clutching the frame convulsively. Voldemort didn't answer or turn round and Ginny felt fear and rage flaring up inside her. 'You don't want him to come, do you, love?'  
  
'You know I hate him' replied the Dark Lord, feeling the wooden window frame crumble under his fingers.  
  
'I know you do' said Ginny in her sweetest tone 'but it doesn't matter.' Her husband turned to her in amazement and saw on her lips the same steely smile that had made him fall in love with her. 'Do you think this has anything to do with your likes or dislikes? Do you think this is still a personal feud?' Ginny was angry now 'Just think of what his arrival here means to us! The effect upon the people will be a thousand times better than if we just killed him...and I'm not going to allow that anyway'  
  
'You are not going to *allow*!?' asked Voldemort, turning to his wife with burning scarlet eyes. 'Am I or am I not the Dark Lord? Is this or is this not my army? Do you or do you not owe me unconditional allegiance?'  
  
'I've talked to Lucius and he isn't going to kill him either' answered Ginny sweetly, giving an unspoken response to her husband's questions. If the Commander of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lady had agreed on something, it would happen. Voldemort had lost too much influence, and the power he still had was partly owed to Ginny's love, and partly owed to the recognition he still had in the wizarding world. The Dark Lord knew he had been defeated again.  
  
'I won't kill him' he said in a tired tone, earning a delighted squeal from his wife, who, Dark Lady or not, was still sixteen years old. 'You really do have a bad influence over me, do you not, Virginia?'  
  
'And that's why you love me, I suppose.' replied Ginny kissing those thin white lips 'The reasons why I love you shall remain a secret'  
  
"These thoughts can be evil and they often deceive./ Got to believe that I can overcome./ My fears are the worst and they always return./ I never learn. Feel like I don't belong."  
  
'What is it, Harry?' asked Draco when he felt that the tremors that racked his boyfriend's body weren't subsiding after half an hour of holding him.  
  
'I'm afraid, Draco, I don't know what to do' whispered Harry, inspiring a surge of terror on the Slytherin who held him. Harry just couldn't back down, or Draco would be worse than dead.  
  
'Shush, love, you mustn't be afraid. I'm with you, remember, I won't leave you.' The reassuring words left Draco's like a cascade and Harry felt better just by feeling his arms around him. 'And you don't have to do anything, remember? You just follow me and in an hour it will all be over' Draco was feeling rather annoyed. Where the Hell was the Gryffindor bravery? Harry was falling apart in his arms and in less than ten minutes Lucius would be there, ready to take them to their initiation.  
  
'Do you love me, Draco?' asked the dark-haired boy in a whisper; that was just too much for Draco's not-too-saintly patience. The blond boy stood up, disentangling himself from Harry and paced the room, trying to vent his anger with some exercise.  
  
'You ask me if I love you, Harry?! Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you you'll never hear those words coming from my lips? Do you want to believe I do? Fine. Don't you? Fine as well, just walk out of this room and leave me to face the consequences' Harry's cheek were recovering their colour and the green eyes sparkled again; Draco smirked to himself 'If you don't think I love you, or if you don't love me, just get out of here and get yourself killed, because there nowhere else you can go'  
  
'Is it too much to ask, Draco?' shouted Harry in return; life seemed to have flown back into him at the sight of Draco's anger 'Is it too much to ask if the reason why I'm risking my life, my honour, my everything, is for real?'  
  
'But do you think I'm not risking anything?' exclaimed Draco, less in control of his emotions that he would like to be; that Gryffindor really knew which buttons to push 'I'm offering you the chance to back down and I'm not telling you the consequences. Do you know what that means? It means I trust you, because if you decide to back down, or to do anything stupid, it will be me who'll suffer. Voldemort will kill me if you don't come with me tonight, but I'm saying, for the last time: Harry, if you want to go, go now, because there won't be any other chance'  
  
Silence settled back down after Draco's offering. Harry stood uncertainly in the middle of the room; to his right laid the door, the only chance he had to get away from it all. He only had to walk a few steps and leave. And then what? Even if he could manage to leave Hogwarts without getting killed, there was no-one he could turn to: Ginny was with Voldemort and the Order...it was ridiculous to even think of them. All his links to the world were inside the boy who stood to his left. Draco leaned on the wall, head bowed, silky hair screening his eyes, arms crossed on his chest. While Harry examined him, feeling old emotions rekindle inside his heart, the Slytherin stole a glance on his direction and quickly looked down. There was fire in that look, noticed Harry, the ever-standing ice had melted for a moment. That was all the Gryffindor needed to push the remaining doubts aside.  
  
'I'll stay' he announced, making the blonde head raise eagerly 'You're all I've got left, dragon, whether you love me or not'  
  
'Thanks' said Draco simply, crushing the other boy in a bear embrace 'Thanks, Harry'  
  
'As much as I regret interrupting this lovely scene,' said Lucius' icy voice, breaking with his vague amusement the moment 'it's time for us to go to the meeting. Follow me' The two youngsters went after the Death Eater to the Potions classroom, where Snape was waiting for them. The hateful look the teacher shot Harry reassured him that everything was normal. 'Grab the Portkey, it's nearly midnight' Draco laced Harry's hand with his own and placed them on the old crystal vial that would take them to Riddle House.  
  
"Guilt is no use, it'll just tarnish your soul,/ Just let it go, the battle will soon be won./ Cold in the shadow of who I should be,/ There's a fire burning deep inside me/ Helping me see only I hold the key"  
  
They landed on the old overgrown cemetery that Harry had visited in his fourth year, but this time they made their way to the house on the hill, which was splendidly lit. Before they reached the house, though, they took a tunnel concealed inside a garden shed, and entered a circular room, with stone walls and torches throwing an uncertain light on the occupants of the room. There was a circle of black-cloaked figures, and Snape joined it after kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. The Dark Lord himself sat on a dark chair, raised on a platform in the middle of the circle. Another cloaked figure stood to his left and Lucius, after kissing Voldemort's hand, stood to his right.  
  
There were only Draco and Harry outside the circle, and soon the Slytherin was summoned by his master. Harry saw him kneel in front of Voldemort, and he could barely repress the angry growl that was forming inside his chest.  
  
'Young Malfoy' said the Dark Lord with his peculiar hissing voice 'I have been told that you bring me a present, one that I have been craving for during the past fifteen years' Harry thought he saw an imperceptible stiffening of Draco's bent back.  
  
'My Lord' replied the blond boy, with a somehow moved voice 'It is my pleasure to introduce Harry James Potter to our party. I personally guarantee his faithfulness and his eager desire to obey you, my Lord'  
  
'Bring the boy forwards' ordered Voldemort. Draco stood up and walked towards Harry; the Slytherin took his boyfriend by the hand and led him inside the circle and in front of Voldemort's seat. 'You may retire, young Malfoy, you will be rewarded' Draco bowed and turned to obey, but not before his silver eyes met Harry's green ones, with something between a plea and an order shining there. 'So, Potter, I wonder what made you change your mind'  
  
Harry looked into those glowing scarlet eyes, ignoring the growing ache on his scar. There was a dying fire burning there, nothing like he had seen it years before. The presence of the Dark Lord was less commanding and the eyes of the Death Eaters were trained less on him and more on the two figures at his sides. Ambition, rage, fear, hatred, all boiled inside the red eyes, but Harry guessed that they were a great deal less powerful than before; love had tamed them.  
  
'Answer me, boy' repeated Voldemort, clutching his wand under the cloak. Those bright green eyes were looking into his. The boy was wearing school robes and his hair was as unruly as ever. There was certainly a great resemblance between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, and Voldemort couldn't ignore it now. Parentless, half-bloods, brave, clever, rebellious, with greater powers than most, abandoned in the end... the resemblance was remarkable. The boy reminded the Dark Lord of what he was fifty years before, when evil was just a mean to an end, and not the aim it had become afterwards. Harry Potter undoubtedly stirred remorse in the heart that Ginny had discovered, and Voldemort hated that. He held his wand more firmly.  
  
Harry was being overwhelmed by the pain on his scar. Voices screamed inside his head "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run!...Not Harry! Please, I'll do anything!...Take my body back to my parents, Harry... I can't live without him, I'm sorry, Harry...Ron is dead...I'm going, guys, to Manchester, I can't stand this anymore...Do you think you have a right to be happy?..." Images whirled in front of his eyes: Cho's limp body lying on a puddle of blood, the closed coffin that held what remained of Ron after a hundred-feet fall, the photo of his parents, Hermione waving goodbye from a cab, Cedric's body sprawled on the ground of a grave-yard. Suddenly all the images coalesced into one, which made him clutch his wand until his knuckles went white: Draco kneeling in front of Voldemort. His dragon, his arrogant, beautiful dragon shouldn't have to kneel in front of anyone, even less in front of an half-dead dark wizard.  
  
"I knew that something must be done/ To save the person I've become/ That's why I had to run away..."  
  
'The last time I'll ask you to answer me' said Voldemort. Green eyes looked into red eyes. A connection, stronger than the one that had been established between their wands years ago, stood now between those eyes, opposite in colour, in power, in aim. The Death Eaters around them were paralysed, and no-one could even move when wands were drawn out, although the connection between their eyes wouldn't be broken. Voldemort raised his wand, thinking of the times Harry had frustrated his plans, of the times he had stood between him and the power that now was slipping out of his hands, taken by Lucius and Ginny. Harry raised his wand thinking of all the people who had died for him, all of the times his life had been put at risk, of the precious boy who would be waiting for him after all.  
  
'Avada Kedavra!'  
  
"And now I stand here, unafraid, Proud of everything I've made. That's why I had to run away..."  
  
An unnatural scream was heard in the round chamber; it echoed against the stone walls and deafened the paralysed Death Eaters. A figure threw itself on the fallen body and the cries were redoubled. No-one moved, either to console or to attack the grieving figure. Harry stood as in a dream, watching Voldemort's dead body, Ginny's desperate screams, Lucius' immobile outline and the frozen shapes of the Death Eaters. His green eyes wandered in a daze until he met slate-grey orbs, shining with silent laughter. Draco stood apart from the circle, and his peculiar smile, the one that Blaise had seen once, the one that Harry had missed in many occasions, graced his lips. There was malice in that smile, evil, pride, mirth, triumph and satisfaction. Was that the Draco that Harry knew?  
  
Lucius stepped down from his place and examined the fallen body, gently detaching Ginny from her dead husband. Once he finished his exam, he turned to the assembled followers and spoke.  
  
'Narcissa, take our Lady to her chambers, please' One of the cloaked figures recovered movement and led the shocked red-head out of the room 'Well, dear friends, what we have feared for so long has finally happened. Our Lord is dead' A storm of whispering and murmuring rose from the circle and a few figures raised their wands. 'You know that he appointed me as his successor; I plan to follow his wishes, and you better do so as well'  
  
'Hail the new Dark Lord' exclaimed Nott's shaky voice under a mask, and after a moment he was being chorused by all the Death Eaters. A vague smile appeared on Lucius' lips, very much like his son's and Harry shifted uncomfortably, still not snapping out of his daze.  
  
'Thank you, Death Eaters. Now, you must return to your places, and we'll see each other shortly. This will not change our plans, not now that we are but one step from victory. Severus, you will return to Hogwarts and entrench yourself there until new orders. You are dismissed' The voice of the new Dark Lord had remained perfectly steady as he delivered his orders and the Death Eaters had no hesitation to carry them out, although Snape did stop to throw a hateful glance to Harry. Once the Death Eaters were gone, and only the muffled sound of Ginny's anguish could be heard, both Malfoys turned to Harry.  
  
'I knew you had it in you, boy' said Lucius as affectionately as he could 'We'll make a great wizard out of you yet' And the new Dark Lord left in the direction of the grieving Dark Lady, leaving the two boys behind.  
  
'Did you expect me to do that?' asked Harry, horrified. Draco walked towards him and his smile, if anything grew more noticeable.  
  
'I knew you'd do it.' Replied the blond boy, reaching out to caress Harry pale cheek; the dark-haired boy instinctively drew back. Draco frowned and pouted 'What's wrong, Harry? Do you not love me now? Have you grown tired of me?'  
  
'You used me!' accused Harry, wishing that he would be contradicted.  
  
'On the contrary' replied Draco 'I gave you the chance to do what you had to do. Pledging allegiance to Voldemort, the wizard that killed so many people, was the only thing that stopped you from embracing our side completely. That obstacle is gone, what more do you want?'  
  
It wad true, thought Harry, Voldemort was the only thing that had really repelled him from the Dark Side and he was gone. Now there was no-one who would make Draco kneel, no-one who would stand between him and Draco. A weird smile came to his lips and he guessed that it was the same kind of smile he had seen on Draco.  
  
'Is this the Harry I knew?' whispered the blond near to his ear. Harry kissed him and replied.  
  
'This is the Harry you'll know' Draco gave him a genuine smile and kissed him again, more forcefully this time. They were interrupted by a cold, crystalline, amused voice.  
  
'I'm glad to see that you have worked thing out' Lucius stood on the doorway, looking at them with a twisted smile. 'Just thought you should know: Ginny's pregnant'  
  
"At least I can be free. I am the person I was looking for."  
  
------------------------- A/N: *gives evil smile* Ha, got you there! So, did you like it? I thought this was going to be the last chapter, but the story has material for more... Do you thing I should continue or maybe write a sequel? Please, review and tell me what you think. Thanks! REVIEW NOW! 


End file.
